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“Go sit in the corner.” - Mrs. Causey, my 3rd grade teacher
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My wife and I decided to go see UNCG and Miami play basketball last night. We knew it would be a tough game but after all, we're both Alumni, and…
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Does a bigger Bible make you a better Christian? I've got a friend that seems to always have this huge Bible with him wherever he goes. I've often wondered if…
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Yesterday, someone asked me how my day was. I took a few seconds and then told them, "Pretty good, got a lot done. Yep, it was a pretty good day." …
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Will he talk to the IRS for me? I drive around town and see signs like
I am now a published author. Well, semi-published. Somebody else thought enough to put my words on their site, so I guess that makes me published. Visit hackwriters.com … -
The property management place where I work is moving offices and I was put in charge of coordinating all the utilities and services migration. In other words, I had to…
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I've done it. I ordered the generic version of Rogaine. Minoxidil is the magic ingredient and it promises to restore my masculinity.
I know the negatives. It'll…
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My only regret, Front Wheel Drive. In 2001, when the Pontiac Aztek first came out, it was reviled as one of the ugliest cars ever made. At the auto show…
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I did it. Despite the advice of a trusted movie friend, I watched the musical, Across The Universe. This was a leap for me, you see, because other than Grease,…
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Back in high school, I worked in the shoe department at Sears in the mall. I started the summer before in Personnel but when school came around, I moved out…
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Written by Ross Cavins
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Thursday, 28 February 2008 08:53 |
 The First Knuckle Method.
That's my politically correct term for nose picking. I call it booger mining. Ingenious, huh? Conjures up visions of midgets with hardhats and lanterns, singing camp songs as they descend into the depths of a nasal cavity for another toiling day of mining. For boogers.
These people I speak of, they pick their noses in public. On the street. In a car. In a deli. In a bar.
My Dr. Seuss impersonation.
These public booger miners either a) don't care if you see them digging out a juicy green gob of goo, or b) don't realize anyone is watching them stick their finger in up to the first knuckle.
They think they have a personal shield around them that renders their actions invisible. Like going the speed limit in a car means no one can see them digging around for that slimy one that you can never really get a good grip on because there's no true nucleus. It's just a smushy gelatinous glob of mucus that squishes under your finger, then surrounds it like you're starring in a sci-fi movie.
These people think that once they get the elusive offender out, they can flick it away or wipe it on a hidden portion of their pants (or dress) and it never happened. Like it didn't count or something.
Like the five second rule when you drop a candy bar on the ground. If you pick it up quick enough, it never occurred. You can still eat it because you got it before the germs had a chance to know it was there and latch on.
But then again, you've got snot on your fingers, so why the hell are you so damned worried about floor germs?
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